The Golden Dragon
by Possum89
Summary: About a young boy who meets a golden dragon, a dragon so rare, that no one in his own village believes him.


**The Rare Golden Dragon**

Its golden scales shimmered in the moonlight. The creature was as large as a truck, maybe bigger. Its long tail waved crazily in the air, almost knocking him off his feet, as it swung past. It had a horrible smell about it, as if an animal had died weeks earlier. It lay near the creek, snoring loudly. He walked towards it, reaching out to touch it. It sprung to its feet. It began roaring, so loud that even the Chinese would be able to hear it. From the trees surrounding it, grey owls began to fly upwards to the sky, screeching as they flew away into the night. He continued to stare at the creature in front of him. He hadn't quite worked out what it was. It stopped roaring and started breathing fire at him. It singed his right cheek. It was hot against his face, as if he was staring into an open oven. The fire stopped as he touched his cheek, wiped at it with his hand and pulled away. He looked at his fingers. In the moonlight he could just see a black mark on his fingers. Charcoal.

From beyond the trees, howling pierced the air. He turned around in alarm, searching into the darkness. Nothing. He turned back to what he now recognized as a dragon. Suddenly about five or six grey wolves came out of the trees to the right of the dragon. The dragon turned its large head around and stared at the wolves with its magnificent black eyes. The head wolf whimpered, but didn't run. The white tips on its tail glowed in the dark. The dragon took a deep breath, and let it go, breathing fire overtop of the wolves. They ran off howling, closely followed by their burning tails. Through the trees the young boy could see small fireballs running away from the dragon and he. The dragon turned to him and breathed more fire. He ran towards the trees. Obviously it didn't want him there. He reached the edge of the trees, turned around and saw the dragons gleaming eyes staring at him through the darkness.

He raced toward the town square, holding his breath as he recounted what he had just seen. The rare golden dragon is a once in a lifetime sight. As he sprinted along he thought about what the other villagers would think when he told them about the golden dragon. The small dark village houses seemed like a blur as he rushed past. Running up the never-ending stairs he reached the glistening bell of hope. He tugged at the rope, echoing a ring throughout the village.

Villagers zoomed out of their houses, talking about who they thought had seen a dragon. They all stared up the stairs to see a young boy standing there with a look of awe on his face. As the crowd eased the noise to silence, the boy began to speak, softly at first, and then almost yelling he told them about the golden dragon he had seen in the woods. Nearly all the villagers had a surprised look on their faces when he had finished, but then one villager yelled, 'And why should we believe that crap?'

The young boy was astonished at the remark from the hairy villager. A huge roar of anger and disappointment rang out through the crowd. No one believed him. The young boy ran off back to his home in the outskirts of the village. He raced through the door before any villagers could follow him. Inside, candles were brightly lit, sitting on the shelves around the room. The kitchen sink was filled with dirty dishes from the past four meals. The smell of cooked beef could be smelt from the direction of the wood stove, where a used frying pan was still sitting, waiting to be washed. He raced through the long tunnel-like corridor, to his dusty bedroom. He sat on his creaking bed wondering why the villagers hadn't believed him. Maybe they thought that a boy of age nine has such an imagination that he can only pretend that he saw the rare golden dragon. While lost in thought, he dozed off into a deep sleep, snoring loudly.

"No! Leave me alone..." The young boy screamed into the darkness as he woke from his nightmare. A searing pain inside his head was screaming to him. He needed a drink. Slowly he got out of bed, lit the candle near his bed and left the room. Sleepily, holding the candle in his right hand, he trudged back down the corridor to the kitchen. He opened the cupboard door, screamed, dropped the candle and flew out the front door. He did not stop running until he reached the edge of the woods. He looked back to see smoke slowly rising from his village house.

Inside the cupboard there was a small-deformed mouse slowly moving around looking for something to eat. The smoke and flames started to fill its lungs and it started coughing. It knew this was the end. There was no second chance this time. The flames encased him in the cupboard, getting closer every second. Soon there would be no mouse.

The young boy continued on into the woods, still shaking from the horrible sight inside the cupboard. He tripped over a large tree root protruding from beneath the soil and plummeted to the ground with a thud.

He heard footsteps running towards him. He panicked and tried to get up, but the pain in his ankle kept him down. Within a matter of seconds, small pixie like creatures surrounded him. He knew what they were from the book he had borrowed from the library for his last science project. They were brownies. They tied him up, hammering small pegs into the ground to hold the ropes in place. He was now a captive of the brownie tribe, and may not last the night.

Back at the village, people were running around frantically with buckets of water trying to put out the house fire, which was now blaring, lighting up the entire village with the glare of the flames.


End file.
